


Abdication

by White_Rabbits_Clock



Series: Come On And Make Me [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Gen, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rabbits_Clock/pseuds/White_Rabbits_Clock
Summary: Tony Stark has got everything under control. Except now Thanos is coming, and they're going to need all hands on deck. Including Steve Rogers.





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure there are triggers somewhere in here. As I post them, I will leave notes about them. Other than that, have fun :)

Tony checks his makeup in the camera on his phone one more time and settles back. He’s got his headphones on, the sound of heavy rain in his ears, and his eyes are closed. It’s one of the relaxation tricks he’s learned over the past six months or so. The car ride to the New York headquarters of the Accords is both too slow and too fast, and Tony can feel restless energy humming in his veins. 

“Talk to me, Friday,” he murmurs.

“Today is December the fourth, the time is 8:08 a.m., and you have a meeting with the American and Wakandan representatives of the Accords counsel. Tony’s chest is tight, and he reminds himself to breathe as Friday recites facts about each of these people in his ear, her voice all clipped and professional. He hears something about Matt Murdock. 

“After this meeting, you have another with the core Avengers to discuss what the Counsel will have to say to you.”

Right. That one will be easier, because over the past year or so the core Avengers have been instrumental in him getting the help he needs with his head and what not. If Tony does something like, say, elect to type out his responses from an entirely separate conference room, they won’t mind. Not meeting face to face sometimes makes hard conversations easier. 

At some point the car stops, and Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson slide in with him.

“How ya feelin’?” Tony pretends to be listening to loud music for a second, and then:

“Always fine.”

“Right. Look what I got.” In his hands are two cups of coffee, with espresso mixed in and made the way Tony likes it. 

“I love you,” Tony says. He sits up and pulls out the other earbud.

“I loved him first,” Foggy says, already working on his own cup of heaven.

“Love is not a finite resource,” Tony mumbles as he sniffs appreciatively at the aroma.

“This is true,” Matt says as he sets his cane down on the seat beside him. The three omegas don’t talk for a good few minutes, just rolling in the loveliness of coffee. Outside, it starts to pour.

“Oh, look, my mood,” Tony notes with a small frown. He almost lost the purpose of the day in the wonderfulness of this coffee.

“I thought you didn’t know what they want?” Matt asks as he sits back in his seat. He and Foggy are both facing Tony.

“Ostensibly, no, I don’t. But when two Asgardians show up and say ‘Hey, this giant supervillain is coming and in order to secure the life of, like, everybody, we’re going to team up with you! And while one of us, who was previously being controlled by this dude, splits his time between here and this giant space ship, the other is going to fuck off to find a new planet to house his people’, and then suddenly the Wakandan representative- not the king, but the representative- and the US rep wants to speak alone with me… I’d bet money that it’s got to do with the Exvengers.” Foggy looks away. Matt doesn’t move. 

“How are you doing with that, then?” Matt asks. He’s a little quieter than normal.

“Just fucking peachy.”

“Why are you bringing us, if all they want is to give you news?”

“Because I have a couple ideas of where this is going to head, and I want you two present if I’m right. If not, well, I don’t have anyone to eat lunch with.” Tony cracks a smile at that.

 

…

 

Unfortunately for Tony, he is 100% right. God, he hates being right sometimes.

“Mr. Stark, are you with us?” Asks the American rep.

“No. Sorry. What is it?”

“We think it would be best if the rogues were to be housed and reabsorbed into the rest of the Avengers.” 

Tony pushes an eyebrow up.

“Reabsorbed.” 

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that they are no longer on the books as Avengers?” The reps look at each other.

“We assumed that they would have notations in their files, but not that they would be entirely removed from the roster.” Tony drops the eyebrow, takes one last pull on coffee, and then sets the cup down.

“They were removed.”

“Would it be possible to get them back in?” Asks the Wakandan rep. She seems… well. The word is probably, if she had expressions, desperate, to get rid of the Exvengers. Tony decides to quit watching them squirm. It’s not their fault that they got dragged into dealing with a bunch of Paperwork Nightmares.

“No. Very briefly, let me summarize why they can’t be “put back”.Simply put, they were never there. The current system we have is an AI by the name of VERONICA, which works in tandem with my personal AI, FRIDAY. Together, they keep track of, among other things, calendars and statistics, and, of course, files. FRIDAY is only about three and a half years old; before then I was using my first AI: JARVIS, who was lost during the Ultron fiasco.

“The problem lies in the fact that the Avengers reported only to SHIELD before its fall, so the vast majority of their info was actually lost during the fallout.Those files that we do not have and never had contained the important bits that people have a habit of overlooking. Such as psych evals and medical records. These things are imperative in order to be cleared for combat or even to live in the compound.” Tony leans forward, driving the point home with his body language.

“I can put the Rogues in the system, no problem. But it’s up to those in charge of filling those files out to do things like conduct those psych evals and piece together medial histories. Even then, there is no guarantee they’ll pass all that. With their luck, they’ll probably get stuck halfway through.”

“And there isn’t a way to skip all that?”

“No. The stuff they have to do, which is referred to as The Gauntlet, by the way, is partially to ensure that they are healthy in mind and body, and partially to ensure that they don’t endanger anyone. I’m assuming they’re coming back now due to Thanos?” Twin nods.

“Skipping all that would require me to put untested-”

“They worked with you for years,” the American interrupts.

“Yes, they did, Mr. Ross. And I worked solo before that for years, but I still had to go through the Gauntlet to get cleared for combat.” 

The blond settles down, mullish and irritated that he had evidently lost control.

“As I was saying, skipping all that would require me to put everyone who works with them at risk. I am not taking untested people with a history of betrayal and putting them with people whose lives I am responsible. We have minors on the team. We have people with families. We don’t have non sentient robots. It's people. And I will not needlessly endanger people.”

“What do we need to do to get them qualified for Avenger status again?”

“Fortunately, I guessed what this convo would be about,” Tony says, standing up and stretching his fingers just for the show of it, “ and I have brought Avengers lawyers. They will handle the back and forth and get you started. 

“In the meantime, the Rogues are not cleared to stay at the Compound, and they are not welcome in the Tower or at any other Stark or Stark-affiliated property. In addition to what they give you, the Avengers will need a formal request for each of those you wish to put on the team, which will be discussed with the rest of the core Avengers and then we’ll contact you after that. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Mr. Stark,” Says the Wakandan rep.

“Princess Shuri.”

“Thank you for the opportunity. I am well aware that it would be reasonable to deny them even this.”

“Thank you, Princess. Mr. Ross. I will see you soon,” Tony says with a smile. Then he’s out the door, down the hall, and muttering to Matt that “they’re up.”

 

…

 

Later, when Tony’s with Clint, watching his kids wreck each other and their eardrums in Mario Smash, Clint has to hold back a snort.

“They’re going to hate this.” 

Tony shrugs.

“You did it. I did it. Vision did it… it’s a standard, not a punishment, and I won’t give them a pass for this.” 


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is spot on in his predictions. Steve is disappointed.

Steve knows he should be watching the speaker, Princess Shuri, as she explains the effects of this document, but it’s hard. His name scrawled in all the blank lines looks like defeat. His team’s names scrawled on their own copies looks like he let them down. He hates it all, but they’ve been away long enough. It’s time to go home.

“Mr. Rogers. Are you paying attention?” He looks up. Shuri is looking at him like he’s an errant schoolboy.

“Yes. No. Sorry, what were we talking about?” Shuri sighs. 

“The Sokovia Accords is not an admittance of defeat, Mr. Rogers. It is an acknowledgment of responsibility. It is, in a way, victory.” it’s like she can read minds. Steve is getting tired of the way she does that.

“Right.”

“In any case, these papers will be processed tonight, and you all leave tomorrow. Pack. Get a good night’s sleep. The jet lag on a flight from here to America is awful.” Shuri strides out, all sleek, dark power, contracts resting on one forearm. There is silence around the table. Wanda is picking at a hangnail. Sam is looking at Steve the way he’s been looking at him for the last two weeks: like he’s an unfamiliar monster. Widow is watching them all.

“Are we really going home?” Wanda asks. Steve is, again, reminded of how young she is.

“Y-”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sam cuts in.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news, but the Avengers isn’t just a handful of people anymore. It’s an organization. I doubt we’re just going to get accepted into that. Not without some serious work. We’re probably going to one of those… what’s it called? Some sort of holding facility. It was on the news a while back.”

“Super Individual Interim Program, or SIIP. Government’s version of the Avengers, if you want to keep it simple,” Natasha interjects.

Steve raises his eyebrows.

“We’re supposed to help fight Thanos.”

“Uh huh. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to be on the Avenger’s team,” Sam says. He sits back and gives Steve that look again. Like he’s somehow not the man Sam thought he was. But he is that man. He just made a split second decision that had a greater impact than he’d thought.

“We’re Avengers. The original Avengers,” he reminds everyone, including himself.

“You and Widow here, maybe, but Wanda isn’t, and neither am I. We’re, like, second gen. Even if we were, we abandoned our posts. Do you really think we’re still in their systems? If we ever were?”

“Tony would have kept track of it all.”

“Kept track? Maybe. Made sure to keep a seat warm? He’d be an idiot to. Personally, I’d be surprised if Clint’s even there, and he was on the news, too. And who knows where the fuck Scott’s got himself to,” Sam says, standing up.

“Prison. Same as Clint, for a while.” Widow supplies, joining him.

“And there we have it. We might see them at SIIP, but I’ll eat my sock if Scott just magicked his way into the Avengers ranks.” Sam says. He taps the table once in emphasis and wanders off, Widow behind him.

“So we aren’t going home,” Wanda says, and the disappointment shines clear as day in her eyes. 

“America is home,” Steve reassures her, even as his own heart sinks, “and we’ll get back to where we need to be eventually.”

“Maybe to you,” Wanda says, and trails after the other two, “but I’m Sokovian. Stark blew it up.” Steve sighs, and gets up to follow her.

These two years in exile have not been kind to team morale.

 

…

 

The plane touches down and, as per Sam’s disturbingly spot on prediction, they are put in the back of the van and taken to a dreary government building, which has been converted into a SIIP site. To get there, they actually leave New York proper and pass through a tall, electrified fence. This is not something they realize until the windowless door opens and they are greeted by, surprise, surprise, Everett Ross. Steve is the first to climb out, duffel bag over one shoulder.

“Sir.”

“Private Rogers. Miss Maximoff. Miss Romanov. Mr. Wilson. It’s a pleasure, I’m sure.” Everett Ross is a blond man, too short to be noticable, who fits all his suits just well enough to blend in to the background.

“Welcome to the Super Individual Interim Program, which specializes in special cases involved with the superhero world. You know: powerful orphans, rehabilitated criminals… pardoned rogues. In general, SIIP is what the acronym says: just a place to keep people like you in the interim until we can find a place to put you. 

“While you are here, you’ll be working for the government in a mundane capacity: low-level paperwork, redirecting calls… that sort of thing. You will be paid what anyone else would be paid.” Ross leads them through the doors with a swipe of his badge and an input into the keypad. As they pass, Everett nods to the armed guards who are standing at attention at some of the entrances.

“It looks more like a prison,” Wanda notes.

“Miss Maximoff, on behalf of the US government, you wound me. We have highly sensitive persons here, of which you are one, and we have a need for guards. In case you missed them, there are also cameras, so do stay on your best behavior.” They pass a mess hall, a gym, a set of offices, a few personnel, some of which are armed, and various closed doors until they reach a conference room.

“Everyone, please take a seat.” Ross does not sit. He sets the briefcase down on the well polished office table and starts pulling out packets with their names printed across them.

“Okay, so let’s get started: First of all, both the government and the Accords Counsel believe you will all be best suited to working with the Avengers again.” Steve resists the urge to glance at Wanda. He told her it would work out. “Before that, however, there’s a handful of problems. Miss Maximoff, your visa was revoked when you made yourself a criminal. We gotta work on that. You’ll have meetings with immigration and what not later today.” Ross turns his eyes back to the rest of them.

“The Avengers have more grace than anyone I know, because they’ve accepted the preliminary applications filed with them on behalf of you all. That, however, is no guarantee of actually serving on the Avengers. The US government has scraped together what information we can find on you all, but the profile that must be completed and filed with the Avengers in order to become a fully fledged member in any capacity is, unfortunately, lacking. 

“It will be your job to complete that. Every one of you has a meeting with a counselor later today to start that process.” Ross pulls a handful of badges and begins to set them down in front of each person.

“After you do that, it’s up to them whether or not they choose to accept you back. Please read the rules you have received in your packet. Note that any outbursts, shows of tempers, or lack of initiative will be noted and submitted in a review of you when it comes time for the government to decide whether or not you may go to the Avengers. Any questions?” Steve raises his hand.

“How long does this… process take to go through?”

“The whole thing is called “The Gauntlet”, and it takes six to eight weeks.” Steve’s hand falls. Ross gives them a nod, and leaves. Steve glances at Widow and Wanda. He tries to catch Sam’s eyes, but the other man still hates him.

“It’s just a minor set back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Constructive Criticism are appreciated.   
> Update day is Friday.  
> My tumblr: A Somewhat Ambiguous (https://asomewhatambiguous.tumblr.com)  
> My Facebook: Grace Augustine (https://www.facebook.com/grace.augustine.927980?ref=bookmarks)  
> My Twitter: GraceAugustin19 (https://twitter.com/GraceAugustin19)  
> My Etsy: Grace’s Journal (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)
> 
> The Etsy is alive and well! Come by to see what I’ve got for sale :) (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)


	3. Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve fucks up and gets lucky. Carol shows her support, as does Sam.

Lights, cameras, the soft murmur of voices and the tinkle of champagne flutes. Tony doesn’t take one (he never takes one, anymore), but he does smile at the taste of the hour d’evoures. It’s high quality. Not quite Pepper high quality, but high quality enough that Tony doesn’t complain. He hates these things, but not quite as much as he used to.

Elsewhere in the crowd, Captain Danvers drifts from group to group, back and fabulous looking in her purple three piece, with tan oxfords and white offsets on them. T’Challa is here too, skin as radiant as always.

This particular benefit is for relief efforts.

Things only go to hell when Tony realizes that, elsewhere in the crowd, Steve Rogers and Co. have arrived. Tony employs his Avoid Random Fucks tactics and stays dancing all night, laughing and giggling with alphas who lean too close so they can get his scent. Occasionally, he will swoop in and engage in whatever conversation Carol is in.

Mid banquet, he gets tired, skin buzzing in irritation. He needs… he needs space.

“Watch ‘em, Fri,” he murmurs as he slips up the stairs and to the second floor of the museum they’re holding the benefit in.

The night air cools him as he ventures out onto the balcony, he closes his eyes for a bit, sighing away his tension. He slides a pill out of his inside pocket and dry swallows it. He’ll be alright.

“Tony.” No he won’t.

“Fri,” he murmurs.

“Sorry Boss. The camera's cut out,” she says, because of course they did.

“What?” Tony says, turning to face Steve. He doesn’t look as good as he did when he went to banquets on Tony’s dime. Back then, he’d gotten fitted for a well tailored suit and had the benefit of Tony: a social veteran.

“I just wanted to see you.”

“You’ve seen me.” he remarks, arms crossed. He has to work to keep his back straight, his head up, his instincts in check. That sad, wistful scent that always wafts off Steve whenever he’s deeply disappointed or sorry washes over Tony, and it’s hard not to drown in it.

“That’s not what I meant. I wanted to ask how you are. You never called.”

“You said call if you needed. I never needed.”

“Tony, you can’t tell me you never needed. I know what it’s like, when omegas have to go without alphas, it does things to their heads,” and Steve just sounds so kind, so like he’s trying hard to be understanding, that Tony wants to spit at him.

“You know what Rogers?” Tony asks and stalks forward, so that he and Steve are face to face. “You always talk like you get it. Like your stupid little barely-qualifying sex ed class from a hundred years ago is a fucking legitimate source of knowledge. But it’s not, and it never was, and if I ever hear another fucking word about how omegas are I’m going to-” 

A bright flash interrupts them. Then another. Tony whirls around, and Steve takes a step forward, his hand attempting to steady Tony. Another flash goes off. They’re coming in a higher frequency, and Tony registers it as a camera. He also registers whose warmth that is that’s bleeding through his suit. The smaller man jumps away as though he’d been burned.

“Do  _ not _ touch me,” Tony snarls.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m working on that stuff you sent me and that, if all goes well, we should be back with the Avengers in no time!” Steve says, voice all urgent and sad when Tony hurries away. As he goes, he bumps into Sam, who looks pissy. As soon as their bodies collide, Sam is backing away, hands up.

“Whatever he said, I’m sorry in advance,” he swears, then dodges around Tony while giving the omega the widest breadth as possible. Tony continues on. At least someone knows what the fuck a boundary is.

 

…

 

“I almost don’t want to know what that look is for.” Tony says. He pulls off his shades and tucks them into the front pocket of his suit jacket. He collapses in chair in another one of his stupidly graceful sprawls, and takes a sip of his iced coffee.

“You remember the benefit last night?” Captain Marvel asks, popping a faint smile in response to the easy theatrics Tony loves to do.

“No…? I mean I do, but I don’t remember doing anything that you would bring up now. Well, nevermind. I don’t remember getting caught, is what I’m really saying.”

“For once, it’s not quite you,” she says as she shows him her phone.

“Oh, god. I liked it better when they were shipping me and you.” Carol smiles. On her phone is the headline: Steve Rogers: Prime or Crime? Under which is a nice picture of Steve Rogers, from the same benefit. In fact, Tony would pay good money that the pictures that had been taken last night is what is shown here.

This one on the cover is the one with Tony up in Steve’s face. From the distance it was taking from, it looks like they’re kissing. 

“Shit.”

There’s a second with Steve’s hand clearly visible, a third with Tony mid jump, face twisted in a snarl. The article goes on with the pictures interspersed. It wonders at the relationship between “Ironman and Captain America”, speculates on the nature of their relationship before the Civil War, and wonders if maybe that “40s mentality isn’t as gone as we’d hoped.”

“This is a fucking disaster.”

“What were you doing out on that balcony?” Carol asks as she takes her phone back from Tony’s frantically scrolling hands.

“Just getting some air. I had a green pill, and I was just getting air.”

“Damn.” Carol knows, more so than most, that Tony only “goes to get air” when he needs to curtail a very bad headspace. Taking a green pill- for anxiety- in public was a very bad thing. It usually means he’ll have to make an emergency trip to see Wong. “Tell me about it.”

“So he, what? Catches you on the balcony, and says what?”

“Starts talking about this letter he sent me and how I didn’t call and should have called because I’m an omega and shit and then I got pissy because all the years he’s had in this century but he still assumes that I’m just a weak little omega. So then he tells me about how he’s almost done with, and I do quote “that stuff I sent” and what stuff did I send? Then the fucking camera starts going off and I ran into fucking Wilson in the hallway and that guy’s like “yo I’m sorry for whatever just happened”. I went to Wong’s after that.”

“I’ll call Murdoch, see if he can’t check in with us a little earlier than planned. From what he says, though, Steve and the remaining Rogues are on track to start their integration into the Avengers program.”

“I had so hoped he’d buck at the psychiatrist thing.”

“Didn’t we all?” Tony shrugs a shoulder.

“Tony, was Steve ever told to stay away?”

“No… I just avoided him.” Carol sighs.

“In that case, write a report, we’ll keep an eye on it and see if he won’t fuck himself up trying to prove himself or something stupid like that.”

“I don’t see why it matters. The government says “take these ones too” and we say “sure” and now he thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants,” he murmurs. He’s up now, racing and pacing, mind going a little wild with the possibilities that are spiraling out. 

Steve demanding he get to eat lunch with Tony. Chasing away baby Avengers with his alpha-ness. Steve throwing his weight around. Steve leading a team and demanding that Tony be there. Steve-

“Tony, talk to me,” someone says distantly.

“Breathe in for me boss, in and out. Come on now you can do it. In and out. Do it like you did that one man who showed you how to dance on a stripper pole.” It’s enough. Tony laughs a little bit.

“Hey… it’s good to have you back,” Carol murmurs. She doesn’t touch him. Knows better than to touch him. More than once, he’s had a panic attack at an alpha’s touch and it remains one of his triggers today.

“It’s good to be back.” He straightens up from where he’d somehow wedged himself against the wall. 

“Hey. Whatever you need, whatever we can do… we will. It isn’t just you vs. Steve, with misinformation and manipulations to change the tides. You’re a core Avenger. That comes with protection. More than that, though, you are my friend. And… I’d like to sync with you.” Tony startles.

“Why? I am literally the worst candidate ever.”

“No. You’re a man who has been through alot and who’s been working back through years of untreated mental health issues that no one in your life ever approached properly. Personally, I’d be honored to call you my Prime,” Carol says. She’s as close to Tony as she thinks is comfortable for him. 

“I… I  need to think,” he says, voice as soft as down. Then he’s gone to get some air. Syncing again? With an Avenger? The last time that happened, they both left him, consequences be damned. He takes the car back to his the Tower and hides down in the workshop with his bots, comforted by the beep of U, DUM-E, and Butterfingers.

He wants, so badly, to stop thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Constructive Criticism are appreciated.   
> Update day is Friday.  
> My tumblr: A Somewhat Ambiguous (https://asomewhatambiguous.tumblr.com)  
> My Facebook: Grace Augustine (https://www.facebook.com/grace.augustine.927980?ref=bookmarks)  
> My Twitter: GraceAugustin19 (https://twitter.com/GraceAugustin19)  
> My Etsy: Grace’s Journal (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)
> 
> The Etsy is alive and well! Come by to see what I’ve got for sale :) (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)
> 
> I know this is late, but I was gone all damn day and completely forgot it was Friday until I saw SailorChibi’s updates in my inbox :(
> 
> (P.S.: SailorChibi is bomb as fuck)


	4. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve calls it quits. Tony deals with a problem.

His chest is all tight and his breathing is strangled and he can’t really tell what’s going on now. In the corners of his mind, he’s hearing beeping, the roll of wheels on concrete. A smooth, female voice trying to remind him of something. He must have forgotten something. Must… it must be something from Pepper. He’s always forgetting something from Pepper. He’s-

Tony’s world blinks back into focus, retracting back from a nothingness so vast that even the noise of DUM-E, just a handbreadth away, echoes. Now he can feel the concrete against his tailbone, the uncomfortable weight of metal and the way the his ribs are over correcting. 

“There you are, Boss. Where are we at, right now?” FRIDAY asks.

“Dunno yet,” Tony mumbles. He reaches out to set a hand on DUM-E’s chasis, taking comfort in the familiar beeps, the gasoline-and-kale smoothie, the whir of the laser cutter as the delicate machinery for the Mark LV is crafted in another room. At some point, he realizes that FRIDAY is redirecting the audio.

“Talk to me, Fri.”

“The Mark LV is at 43% completion. DUM-E has a maintenance appointment scheduled a week from now. Your heats are projected to be at 90% normalcy when referenced to your medical information from various points in your life. Miss Potts is coming over for work and will be staying in the guests suites. You have not decided between the 44th and 45th floors. Doctor Banner has sent a request to use the labs. 

“Analysis of his previous habits dictate that he will speak with you about emotional subjects, and is likely not going to work on anything at all. Holiday’s automated maintenance was performed with no problems. The SIIP recruits are requesting overrides from the Core Avengers. Analysis of pervious habits dic-”

“Thank you,” Tony says, getting to his feet.

“What’s that about SIIP?” He asks when he feels normal enough. He steadfastly ignores his desire for a drink of fifteen. 

“SIIP recruits Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, and Wanda Maximoff are requesting an override with regards to their upcoming psych evals. SIIP recruits Sam Wilson and Scott Lang have reached 94% and 98% completion regarding their preliminary files. They are already being considered for training with various teams.

“Let me see those teams.”

“Core Avenger Carol Danvers, code name Captain Marvel, wishes to take on Mr. Wilson. Main Avenger Jessica Drew, codename Spiderwoman, is the foremost candidate for Mr. Lang’s training.”

“Huh. And the others?” Tony asks as he walks over to the blender. He’s got to get the oil out. Again. 

“May I ask for clarification?”

“Where are the other SIIP recruits at?”

“Mr. Rogers: 76%. Ms. Romanov: 69%. Ms Maximoff: 34%”

“What’s the hold up?”

“Stubbornness, it looks like.” Tony snorts as he opens the door to his lab.

“Of course it is.”

“Forms have been submitted for various requests from Steve Rogers, some of which have been on behalf of Wanda Maximoff.”

“Huh.”

“Indeed, Boss.”

“Chances of him getting tired?”

“So low it’s in the negatives, Boss.”

“Who taught you to talk like that?” Tony asks. He’s feeling… not all that better, but certainly well enough to play a bit.

“You did, Boss.”

“Well. I ought to be fired. You think they’re gonna fire me?”

“They would find themselves lacking in the brains department if they did, sir.” Tony pulls open the fridge on his floor and unearths a package of strawberries.

“Perfect. Doesn’t Pepper hate strawberries?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I should feel properly deterred.”

“You would  need to eat strawberries directly before contact for them to have an affect,” Friday notes as Tony bites off the first one and tosses the top in the trash.

“Shh, baby. Don’t ruin my fun.” 

 

…

 

Steve and Wanda sit across from each other in Steve’s room.

Wanda is in the straight-backed chair, fingers tapping and anxious red rhythm against her knee.

“I’m not gonna pass a psych eval, Steve,” She says, eyes distant and angry.

“As I understand it, Wanda, this is not a pass-or-fail test. They want to develop a plan regarding our mental health. When we get back into the Avengers, we’ll have to keep on top of this stuff, too. I don’t think there’s a way around this.”

“YOu said it yourself! There’s always a way,” Wanda says, voice high and panicked.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. Before? Yes, there was a way around it. But even if we got back without this eval and without a plan, we’d be in deep water the first time a mistake happened. You’ve said it yourself, Wanda. You’re control is not complete. For them to take any of us back without this eval is just bringing massive amounts of trouble on their own heads. As much as I don’t like this any more than you do, we have to have a backup plan for when someone makes a mistake.”

“I can do better!” she insists.

“And I know you can. Everyone else? Not so much,” Steve answers. “Look, Wanda. We tried, okay? And they’ve denied the request. You still have the majority of your preliminaries to go through, and once you get through those, there’s still whatever the hell else the Gauntlet requires.”

“They’re just wasting their time.”

“And watching their backs. I can’t make you, but they also don’t have to take you on, you know?” Steve gentles his voice when he says that. Wanda’s a great kid, but she’s going to have to give somewhere.

“I just don’t. I don’t do doctors.” 

Steve sits back with a sigh. 

“Neither do I, Wanda. Neither do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Constructive Criticism are appreciated.   
> Update day is Friday.  
> My tumblr: A Somewhat Ambiguous (https://asomewhatambiguous.tumblr.com)  
> My Facebook: Grace Augustine (https://www.facebook.com/grace.augustine.927980?ref=bookmarks)  
> My Twitter: GraceAugustin19 (https://twitter.com/GraceAugustin19)  
> My Etsy: Grace’s Journal (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)
> 
> The Etsy is alive and well! Come by to see what I’ve got for sale :) (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)


	5. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My bad.

Hey guys, it’s White Rabbit’s Clock here. I know I’ve been pretty consistent with this series so far, but we’ve reached the end of what I already had written and I don’t know where to go next. As of right now, this story is on hiatus. 

I want to say that it will just be this week so I can write out the rest of the series and pick it back up when I’m completely done, but between school and work, there’s no telling how long that will take. As for the rest of my works, I’m trying to just finish what I have already started, since I don’t seem to be able to write anything new.

Thank you for your patience. 

 

-White Rabbit’s Clock.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Constructive Criticism are appreciated.   
> Update day is Friday.  
> My tumblr: A Somewhat Ambiguous (https://asomewhatambiguous.tumblr.com)  
> My Facebook: Grace Augustine (https://www.facebook.com/grace.augustine.927980?ref=bookmarks)  
> My Twitter: GraceAugustin19 (https://twitter.com/GraceAugustin19)  
> My Etsy: Grace’s Journal (https://www.etsy.com/shop/GracesJournal)
> 
> The Etsy is alive and well! Come by to see what I’ve got for sale :)


End file.
